


Late Night Snacc

by ahopper84



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, Awkward Flirting, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 02:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20900204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84
Summary: Joe works the graveyard shift. He's got a new regular. Things get interesting.





	Late Night Snacc

**Author's Note:**

> Titles suck, summaries suck. No spellcheck we post and die like men. Might stay a one shot, might add more if you want. (PS thank you NightOfTheLand for looking it over, and being an all around awesome person!)

“Thanks, have a good night!” Joe waved to the cop as he exited the store, then leaned on the counter. It was slow, even for a Tuesday. Officer Hollander was a good guy, one of the few nice cops that actually cared about the whole ‘protect and serve’ thing. Plus he’d gone to a lot of concerts back in the 70s, so he had some really great stories to tell. It was one of the brighter spots of Joe’s overnight shift. Better than dealing with crackheads and teens trying to steal beer, anyway. 

He wiped down the counters, even though they were clean, and checked on the coffee, even though it was still good. The newspaper tops from the previous day were already clipped and filed, the lotto was shut down, the cigarettes were counted and restocked and counted again. This was the worst part of his night, the stretch of a couple hours were there just wasn’t anything to do. He could look around the pumps for loose change, but he doubted there would be much, as few customers as he’d had tonight.

He paced around the store, facing product that didn’t really need to be faced. At least he could listen to his music this late at night without anyone complaining. Queen was on the musical menu tonight, currently Somebody to Love. He sang along as he checked the expiration dates on the string cheeses, but looked up when the bell above the front door chimed. 

“Sorry, I’ll be right there!” he called, spotting a head of short blond hair over the top of the aisle. He speed-walked back to the counter, but the customer was at the coolers in the back, momentarily hidden from view. At least he was by the waters, not the beer, so Joe didn’t worry too much about the blind spot. Finally the customer came around the corner, and Joe’s jaw dropped. Walking towards him was easily the most attractive man he’d ever seen. Tall and buff, wearing a sleeveless tank and gym shorts, dark blond hair slightly curled on top, beads of sweat running down the side of his neck… he looked like he’d walked straight off the cover of Men’s Fitness.

“Evenin’,” the guy said, and Joe snapped his jaw shut. As if his looks weren’t enough, his voice held a deep baritone, with a hint of what sounded like an accent of some sort. He walked up to the counter and set down his poweraid. “Pack of Marlboro Reds please,” he added, and yes, that was definitely a British accent. After a second he cleared his throat, one eyebrow up, and Joe finally snapped out of it.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Right.” He turned and got the cigarettes, scanned them and the water. “Need a lighter?” he asked, but the guy shook his head.

“How much?” he asked after a long moment.

“Right. Sorry. Uh, Seven twenty-three.” Joe stared at the counter, his face on fire. What was wrong with him? He’d seen hot guys in here before without freaking out. Granted, none of them had been this level of Adonis, but still, he was a grown man, not a fumbling teenager. The guy slid his card, and Joe handed over the receipt.

“Thanks, mate. Night.”

“Uh, y-yeah. Goodnight!” He called as the guy left. He felt like a bit of a creep, watching out the glass doors as the Brit took a sip of his poweraid, lit his cig, and walked off. Joe leaned against the counter, taking a few deep breaths. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so shaken up by someone. He knew he’d never seen the guy before; there was no way he’d forget that. He idly wondered if he would see him again, but it was highly unlikely. 

-

The next night was busier, but still not too bad. He was cleaning out one of the coffee pots in the back sink when he heard the door chime. “Evening!” he called, drying off his hands and carrying the canteen out; he nearly dropped it when he saw Brit boy walking back to the cooler. He quickly set the canteen in its place and scurried back behind the counter, just as the guy walked up.

“Marlboro Reds please,” he asked, setting down a poweraid.

“Sure,” Joe replied, not trusting himself to say much else. He scanned in the two items and gave the guy the total.

“Thanks,” Brit boy said after paying, and waving off the receipt. “Night.”

Joe watched him go, this time putting in his earbuds and jogging off without lighting up. He wondered what the guy was here for, if he was new to the area or just visiting, and what had him up at three in the morning. Questions he’d probably never get answers to, but that was normal. If he became a regular maybe Joe would ask.

-

Thursdays were supposed to be Joe’s day off, but of course Chloe had to call in ‘sick’. And so what should have been a night of sleep, or at the very least getting caught up on some netflix, was instead spent checking in the weekly delivery. It was at least a change from the monotony, but by two-thirty it was back to the boredom. Once again he cleaned, stocked, and faced the whole store, and it took less than an hour.

He was singing along to We Are The Champions as he counted the cigarettes, and so hadn’t heard the door chime. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that he yelped and spun around. And of course it was just his luck that it was Brit boy, his lips curled in a half-smile.

“Didn’t mean to spook you, mate.” 

“Huh? Oh. You didn’t. I mean, I just didn’t hear you come in. Cuz of the, yeah…” Joe reached over and turned down the volume on his music, then grabbed a pack of Marlboro Reds. 

“S’a good song. Oh, thanks,” Brit boy said when he saw the cigarettes. He paid for his smokes and drink, and waved off the receipt as usual. “Well I’ll let you get back to it,” he paused to squint at Joe’s name tag, “Joe.”

“Uh, yeah. Night.” Joe stared after him, speechless. He’d taken the time - granted it was barely a second, but still - to call him by his name. He’d even made conversation, if a couple sentences with less than a handful of words each could be considered that. Joe smiled and leaned against the counter, feeling stupidly happy.

-

Friday and Saturday were the busiest nights of the week, and so when Brit boy came in, Joe had a line both times. But he pulled a pack of Marlb Reds as soon as the blond walked through the door, and got a smile and a wave in return. Sunday was better, though he was stuck trying to explain to a drunk why he couldn’t sell him beer that late at night. Brit boy gave a frown of concern, but Joe shrugged; he was more than used to it.

Monday came, and for the first time since he could remember, Joe almost hoped he’d get called in. He’d seen Brit boy six nights in a row, and he felt a little disappointed that he’d have to skip one. He stared at his phone all day, telepathically willing Jake to call him; for a minute he even considered calling his coworker and offering to take the shift anyway. But he reminded himself that he technically wasn’t allowed to work a seven day workweek, not to mention that would be borderline stalkerish. So instead he ordered a pizza and started up the latest season of Walking Dead.

On Tuesday Joe was actually looking forward to work. It was insane, he knew, being excited to see a guy he’d only shared a few words with, but it didn’t change the fact. He got done with his duties extra early, but that just meant a longer wait. He stared at the clock as the hours ticked by. The hot dog roller squeaked as it turned; the slushy machine’s freezer cycled on and off as it churned the neon semi-liquid within. 

It was 3:17 when Brit boy walked into the store.

“Hey,” Joe said, and the blond smiled back at him, then went to fetch his usual beverage. Joe grabbed the red pack of cigarettes off the shelf and scanned them in.

“Lighter tonight please; mine just died.”

“Color?” Joe asked, nodding to the rack of lighters, some with sayings on them. Brit boy looked at them, then pulled out one that said Capricorn on the front. “Cool. I’m a Virgo/Libra myself,” Joe said, then mentally kicked himself, as if this random guy would care what his sign was.

“That’s cool, my mum’s a Libra. September 24th.”

“Yeah? 21st for me,” Joe said as he scanned in the lighter and drink. 

“January 2nd,” the blond replied. He slid his card, and Joe tossed the receipt. “Didn’t see you last night. Day off?”

Joe’s heart did a somersault; he’d actually noticed? 

“Um, yeah. Mondays and Thursdays. I had to cover a shift last week. You come in every night?”

“Now I do,” Brit boy answered. He leaned against the counter as he opened his drink; Joe’s eyes were glued to the muscles in his neck as he swallowed. “Just moved to the area. Can’t really sleep at night, so I run.”

“Oh yeah, insomnia’s a bitch. That’s why I took the night shift,” Joe laughed. They fell into a silence as the blond took another sip.

“Well, gotta keep the heart rate up. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow night, huh?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be here.” Joe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Right, well, see you Joe. Oh, by the way,” the blond said, pausing by the door. Joe almost swore he saw the guy’s eyes dart up and down for a second. “My name’s Ben.” He smiled and ducked out the door, leaving Joe in a flustered puddle.


End file.
